


Brooding Anti-Hero

by throwthisaway



Series: Carrion [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Animal Instincts, Bad Ending, Bird/Human Hybrids, Body Horror, Body Modification, Breeding, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dehumanization, Dissociation, Egg Laying, Eggpreg, Explicit Sexual Content, Fate Worse Than Death, Forced Pregnancy, Hybrids, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Mental Disintegration, Mind Break, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Human Genitalia, Other, Transformation, nullification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26605081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/throwthisaway/pseuds/throwthisaway
Summary: Goro Akechi's existence didn't end when his cognition killed him. His celebrity allowed him to carry on as a being in the cognitive world, and as fortune would have it, there's even has a special task only he can complete!Unfortunately for him, death would have been a kinder fate.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Cognitive Akechi Goro, Implied Only
Series: Carrion [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937719
Comments: 14
Kudos: 24





	Brooding Anti-Hero

There was a darkness so complete, so infinite, that it seemed endless. There was nothing one could do when confronted with it, when it overshadowed so completely the sense of one's being. A mote of black was as good as an ocean of it, as they were equally indivisible. But one presence drifted in this unchanging morass for some time. Years? Months? It would have been impossible for it to gauge.

But, after some time, a ragged and raw sense of agony wrenched through every iota of this being, and the black ceded, slowly, minutely, away to dimmer greys and the mattes of rust-streaked browns.

Goro was wrenched into awareness, eyes unfocused and staring without incomprehension at his surroundings. He stared at what may have been a grimy steel wall, or perhaps a ceiling, but his roiling nausea took precedence for the time being. Thoughts were slipping away from his mind, too quick to hold on to other than snatches of "What the fuck — where the fuck —?" and a pervasive sense of wrongness. Unable to take stock of anything other than the sick sense of his body and riding the throes of overwhelming sensation.

As much as Goro didn't want to focus on the agony, he could do little else except take it.

He may have been moaning, chest heaving, or — no, he wouldn't be crying — for an indeterminate amount of time. Eventually, the pain narrowed, to a point low on his midsection, and he was able to take a deep, shuddering breath for the first time without gasping. And then another. A strange ringing was between his ears, but he could hear his laboured exhalations after some time, and that provided something new to focus on, a pattern for his mind to seize onto and...  
Goro's mind began to turn.

He'd been shot.

He was... Dead...? No— But he should be. The truth of that felt right to acknowledge. And yet...  


... And yet...

Goro blinks around himself, and lurched unsteadily upright from where he'd been laying prone. His body gave another round of pangs of hurt, but he shoved that shit right to the back of his mind. Compartmentalise. Analyse. Where _was_ he? This room — he was still in Shido's palace, although he couldn't place this specific room. _Think_ , he urged himself, but his brain was sluggish, and was not keen to respond.

His head throbbed, the pain blooming in his skull, and he raised a hand to try to rub at his temples. But it was not the familiar snag of metal thorns from his gauntlets that brushed against him, but something softer, ticklish, almost. Feathers...?

Where his hands once were, there were feathers. His fingers — were gone. His hands were fucking gone—!

His eyes rolled back in his skull, and Goro passed out once again.

* * *

When he came to again, it was in the middle of a dry-heave. His body had been trying to retch, and contractions raced from his spine downward. Goro turned his head to the side on reflex, a coppery froth bubbling from between his lips which he spat wetly out. His eyes were unable to focus on anything, the world fuzzy and out of date, and as before his thoughts slid nimbly away from him. His head, his neck, his shoulders, and especially his core were churning with a fresh wave of torment — but his numb limbs were incapable of feeling it. His —

Goro forced himself to look down at himself in the dim light.

He was nude, or close to it. Nothing but bare skin from the head down, his torso left bare, and his skin had a strange pallor to it. Thatches of glinting black feathers ran from beneath his navel downward, covering completely his groin and thighs . But — his arms. His legs.  


About halfway to his elbows, his skin was overtaken by the feathers, lengthening into long curves of neat black feathers, wings that were bent at an unnatural angle to take the place of his hands. Where his legs were, there was even less of his humanity showing. Though his thighs had about the right shape, they were clad entirely in plumage as well, and from the knees downward they tapered sickeningly. The flesh there was grey and scaled, wrapped around the thin bones that led to two gnarled crow's talons.

Goro couldn't help but to keep staring. The impossibility of this, the horror of his new body — he refused to acknowledge it. His body and mind both whirled in an absolute rejection, a mantra building in his head of utter disbelief. No!

And yet it was. He tried to clutch his face, but the arc of one folded wing brushed against his wet (when did that happen?—) cheek instead, the glossy pinions smearing the filth of his sick and tears against his skin.

His eyes were wide. He'd already gone insane, or this was hell, or this was some fucked up nightmare. This couldn't — this could NOT be —

"Hello, Crow!" a voice came softly behind him, a smug velveteen lilt to it. His own voice, filtered through Shido's cognition to be on the wrong side of uncanny. His cognitive self was here. Goro whipped his head around, regardless of the spike of pain it brought.

Cognitive Akechi stared back at him with his empty eyes sickly lit with delight, a small teasing smile on his features. He raised his gloved hand in greeting, his fingertips giving a spidery twitch, as he waved to his other self. "It seems you can still be of use to our Captain after all. Haa, I knew our death would further his plans, but to this extent... The Captain was right."

Despite his condition, Goro's body lunged forward from how he'd been slumped, his new wings fanning uselessly outward as his shoulders hit the ground. "What — what the fuck are you talking about?" He choked out, infuriated and disgusted beyond belief. This useless, piece of shit body—!

His cognitive self just smiled down at him, walking over and nudging Goro's jaw upward with one polished shoe, his chin balanced against the clean leather. He was utterly silent as he took in Goro's condition, and didn't seem surprised by it either, eventually crouching down. In a smooth motion that gave Goro no time to brace himself, his cognitive self patted Goro's abdomen, once.

His teeth clenched so hard he thought he would break them. He had a howl of fury vibrating, trapped in his throat, but he'd be damned, was probably already damned — before he'd give that cognition even more of a sense of victory.

"Oh, well, don't worry about it Crow-kun. The Captain has not deemed it something you need to _know _about, in order to do it. Though I suppose we'll be seeing the outcome shortly." The genteel demeanour of Cognitive Akechi changed then, a sneer contorting his lips and he gave Goro a sharp kick, aimed directly at his delicate new bird feet. "Do not let him down _again _."  
____

___As quick as the outburst came, it ended, the cognition primly turning on his heel while Goro was left to suck down air in heaving gasps. That fucking kick! Was too sharp! And he got basically nothing out of that exchange, his quick wit and words eroded down to a useless lot of fuck-nothing—_ _ _

__His cognitive self didn't even bother to look back at Goro as he continued walking to the other side of the ship's room, pressing a hand against a panel to have parted the metallic walls apart. He strode out into darkness, and after he left the walls slid back to their place seamlessly.  
__

__A guttural screech tore from Goro's throat, as he caught his breath again, but Goro couldn't tell where that noise was coming from at first; his vocal cords paralysed, thrummed, making only the high-pitched, inarticulate noises of a bird. Goro spasmed, and he choked out a red-stained feather and a stringy clump of clotted blood, dropping from his lips and merging with the murky floor of the ship. He continued screaming for several minutes after he'd lost feeling in his throat, before he went out of breath, uselessly embracing himself in empty comfort._ _

____Really, the reason he stopped was because he could bear listening to the sound of his own cries echoing back at him from every direction for only so long. A cacophony of cawing. Bestial. Unrecognisable as coming from a human._ _ _ _

____Goro wanted to die. He wanted to close his eyes and fall asleep for the rest of his life. He didn't want to be here anymore.  
But there was nothing else he could do. He was trapped, unable to even stand and right himself on his replaced legs. About the only thing he _could_ do was scream, but even that was wrong on a visceral level.  
____

__Slowly Goro took a deep breath, his exhaling stuttering and irregular. He repeated the process a few times, focusing on his breathing, and trying to alleviate the feeling of panic rising inside of him. It didn't work, but his breath slowed down to some semblance of normality, and he swallowed hard. He fell silent._ _

____After a few minutes his frantic heartbeat slowed down, and the searing warmth spreading through his body slowly faded away to bearable levels._ _ _ _

____Time passed, and Goro came back to himself. The pain of his half-transformation throbbed in pulses, from his brain to where his limbs merged away, but he couldn't do anything about that either. He was able to do nothing, only feel and experience the situation._ _ _ _

____He was stuck. But... His mind desperately reached out for something to anchor his swirling desperation, and settled on at least one thing. That loathsome puppet version of himself said he had a purpose. And if he had a purpose, he needed to be able to act, to subvert it... Which meant, he couldn't just lay here and scream. Even if his body had become this... Thing... He still had his mind intact. His mind was all he had to work with, his mind was all he had to live for._ _ _ _

____Goro focused on the pain in his head. The throb. The pulse. It hurt, but it was a pain he could work with. He could dull the pain with sheer force of will. That was his purpose. All he had to do was focus. He could do this._ _ _ _

____He took a deep breath. Then another; held it in his chest as he stopped breathing. He focused on the pocket of air in him, a sac of emptiness bloating his lungs..._ _ _ _

____Slowly, he let the air out. His breathe tainting its scent bitter and acrid from his bile. His mind shut out that sense, then the pain, ignoring it. He could ignore anything, if he tried enough. It was a skill that was vital to his success as Shido's pet assassin. So yes, he could ignore that his final, noble sacrifice had been... In vain. He could ignore the fact that his worthless, scum father was still up and kicking. He could ignore that THAT meant either the Phantom Thieves (—Ren—) had failed him, or were taking their sweet fucking time. He could ignore all that, and more._ _ _ _

____Fine. So he was an abomination. He was already a cursed child — so what if his blackened core now matched his outsides? Perhaps, optimistically speaking, this was the new spirit of his rebellion made manifest. And, from that line of thinking, he cast out another hope. If _that_ were true, then it may also be the case that... If he were to leave the Metaverse, then... _ _ _ _

____He curtailed that thought. One thing at a time. Whatever his future was going to be, he needed to focus on the present to reach it._ _ _ _

____He hadn't been able to right himself after his cognition booted him, and now Goro gingerly tried to rise from his sprawl on the cold metal floor. He tried to draw his elbows in, and under his ribcage, to try and push himself up, but the angle wasn't quite right. His wings had started to bend at a harsh angle, as if his former elbows were being popped out of joint, so he dropped himself back to the floor._ _ _ _

____A thin line of spittle dripped from the corner of his mouth from exertion. Goro awkwardly hunched his shoulders up and tucked his chin in so as not to drool all over himself, and bit harshly at his lip. Never in his life did he think he would be reduced to such a pathetic, pitiful mess again..._ _ _ _

____He tries again to raise himself. This time, he lets the brunt of his weight slip forward, his collarbones and chest pressing hard against the floor, and arches his back. It was a small blessing he'd kept some of his former flexibility and core strength, as he could do this without needing his knees propped under him._ _ _ _

____Of course, he was aware it was a rather shameful position. Face-down against some of his own fluids, his sick, and ass raised up. But what was the loss of one last dignity? He couldn't bring himself to care about it, just cursing to himself mentally as he rocked his hips backward, building momentum and getting a sense for his new balance. The stale air was chill against him, and he felt even more exposed, but as needs must._ _ _ _

____A little bit more rocking, his waist bowed sharply inward, and Goro forced his hips down as he thrust his neck and upper spine up, seesawing himself into an ungainly sitting position. He landed with a thump onto his ass with his feathered legs spread askew, and though an uncomfortable itch was pushing up at the base of his spine, he did it. At last, he was upright again._ _ _ _

____His vision went fuzzy and dark at the edges, but he sucked down a quick breath and the feeling abated. Something so simple and he already felt like he was going to pass out again. Pitiful! Goro was seething, his cheeks flushed with rage and pain. But there was nothing else for it to but to grit his teeth and endure. Right. Okay. Even if he wanted to end it, right here, right now, his gun was nowhere to be seen. There were no tools to speak of, the metal room completely barren. He couldn't choke himself, either, without hands, and though his talons were curved and sharp it was physically impossible to get them anywhere near his head or any of his remaining arteries... He could still bite his tongue and try to drown on his blood, but knowing his luck, he'd more likely survive the damn thing and end up a mute. Another disability was unacceptable. This body was already —_ _ _ _

____Goro closes his eyes and, after a moment to brace himself, looks over his new form again. It didn't... It didn't seem like the feathers had spread any further than they already had. Granted, he had no idea how much time had passed, or how long he'd been under as his body had progressed to this point, but for now he cautiously filed this information away as a sign that his transformation was either paused or completed._ _ _ _

____His cognition had also seemed to not seem too different in size, so at least he wasn't shrinking to the size of the real life bird. That, too, was... Well, it was something._ _ _ _

____But the rest of this body. Gods above. He really was no longer human. Now that he wasn't seeing in duplicate from a splitting headache, he didn't know if it was better or worse to see his new limbs in such clarity. Goro slowly turns his head, looking at his upper left arm, how his pale skin shifted almost seamlessly into feathered skin, only a hint of skin visible where the lesser covert feathers sprouted._ _ _ _

____He tried to remain detached, scientific. Examining himself like he was just an observer, a passenger in his own head. Humerus, radius, ulna. Those bone structures were similar enough between humans and avians, he recalled distantly from his biology courses. It's the carpals, the wrist area and fingers, that's where the real differences lie. The reality of trying to map that out however was anything but simple. Maybe... He could try to spread his wing first. Get the feathers to fan out on one wing, then the next. He cautiously tried to focus, and go through the imaginary process of spreading his left hand's fingers. Goro had to stop as a splitting twinge of pain radiated upward and he had to hiss and stop._ _ _ _

____Perhaps he should rethink his approach. Maybe the trick was to stop thinking so much. He could... He could just try again._ _ _ _

____Unbidden, a memory came to him from when he was younger. It had been one of his mother's good days, and she had the energy and time to pick him up from school and go to a nearby park. It wasn't one of the ones with a playground, but he hadn't minded at all._ _ _ _

____She'd even bought him a flavoured ice from a kiosk, and they'd sat down to savour it on a bench when a series of chirrups had drawn their attention. There was a nest tucked up in the tree branches above them, and a fledgling sparrow had teetered on the ring of twigs, before plummeting outward, cheeping frantically as it fell._ _ _ _

____And after that..._ _ _ _

____He didn't remember clearly what had happened next._ _ _ _

____Perhaps his mother had told him some sweet lie about the chick being taught to fly by its parents. That it had fallen and just needed to be righted, just like when she was teaching Goro how to ride a bicycle and he kept tipping to the side, and oh how they ought to leave so as not to scare the birds away from checking on it._ _ _ _

____Maybe instead, she'd told him that there had been some flaw in the bird, some sickness lurking under its harmless exterior that made it a danger to the rest of the chicks. Not worth the risk of rearing. No, don't cry, because isn't it better this way? Now the rest of the chicks won't get sick too..._ _ _ _

____Or perhaps the little bird had spread its wings, and saved itself. Perhaps it had got just the right angle to swerve its body away from becoming pulp under its own power. Left to wing itself alone in the world and out of sight._ _ _ _

____Yeah. Maybe._ _ _ _

____Sweat ran in rivulets down his spine, and as he comes back to himself he notices that his arms had gone, not exactly limp, but he felt they'd relaxed into a more natural pose. His upper arms were forced slightly upward, and from where his forearms would have been, the angle of his wings had contracted so that they now were tucked up neatly at his sides. The farthest edges of his feathers trailed somewhere behind him, as he was sitting, but the soft inner down was bunched up where his elbow ended and tickled against his chest. It felt, sort of, like the pose one would make when imitating a tyrannosaurus, though not... quite._ _ _ _

____Whatever. It was progress, and he didn't feel like he was going to dislocate his elbow anymore. Experimentally, he tried to draw out one wing, the left one, only rotating it like he would his twist his wrist instead of adding a stretching motion, and succeeded in flaring out the tip of his wing. The outstretched feathers were sharp and long, and he tried putting a little more pressure, going through the remembered motion of kneading down with the heel of his palm. That made his wing extend fully outward, and from base to wingtip it was longer than his former arm span by about a quarter, if he had to guess._ _ _ _

____Goro couldn't say he was pleased, not even close, but a part of him couldn't deny that he was relieved that this body was responding to him, that he wasn't going to be merely locked inside it. He tries to move his other wing now, and it responded in turn, albeit at a slightly different angle than his left wing. Perhaps because it had been his non-dominant hand, it felt weaker, and lighter, but after a few moments of shifting he'd been able to make them both be level and outspread._ _ _ _

____He gave a sharp tug on them, and to his surprise, they'd snapped back inward to a resting position. It seemed Goro was becoming acclimatised to them. Stretching them both out again, he tries to flap them, to try and slap them against the air, and they responded... But, he wasn't aloft, and the stagnant air didn't feel right. Some newly discovered instinct was tickling at the back of his brain. His balance felt too ungainly, his shifted arms and legs an entire factor of weight different from his still fleshy upper arms, torso, and head. Flight, it seemed, was off the table as an option._ _ _ _

____Fucking great. He was stuck in this half-bird body, and he doesn't even get the one perk that birds get._ _ _ _

____He'd need to try to use his legs, then, though they were an even more bizarre configuration, and gave him a greater sense of unease to look at. His nimbly muscled legs, built up from years of cycling and darting through the Metaverse alone, were incomparable to the spindly toothpicks that were his new lower limbs._ _ _ _

____He moved down one of his wings, and though it was too large to brush the end tips of it against his thighs, he still wanted to try and feel how much of his meat was left there. His feathers himself had no sensation, but he could feel a disconcerting sense of pressure where they attached to his skin. He brushed the edges of his secondary feathers, the ones formed just after his elbow, inward and down. Though, even this motion was awkward, and he couldn't get much fine control, the angle he needed was trying enough to manoeuvre into. The tips of the feathers grazed over, then into, the plumage of his thighs. Oh — they were sinking in, the softer, smaller feathers on his legs parting as he tried to poke haltingly in until he met flesh once again. It seemed deeply buried. But not as far as he feared. There was still some of him buried under the feathers._ _ _ _

____But as Goro stared and inspected himself, a hereto forgotten sense of horror dawned on him. Like a bolt of lightning right into his heart.  
The feathers hadn't just engulfed his lower body to the tops of his thighs. He'd noticed it earlier, that they'd advanced higher up, creeping up his lower torso, past the sharp jut of his hipbones. He just — hadn't been thinking of — _ _ _ _

____He swallows, despite himself, and crooks in on himself as he drags that inner edge of his wing toward the junction where his thighs met. There was a soft, pleasant sensation from the barest hint of the brushing. But nothing more. He presses harder, searchingly, mind literally blanking at the implications, and his wing begins to spasm as he tries in desperation to seek out his cock. Surely it was buried under there somewhere, right?! He can't — there's no way that —_ _ _ _

____Alas. Fortune had never been kind to Goro, and even in his most dire hours, it seemed that his luck would be as poor as ever. His feathers continued to brush smoothly past his soft, down-replaced pubes. But there was no whisper of arousal building under his skin, no telltale bulge to have tented outward. Goro was stripped even of his manhood._ _ _ _

____For long seconds, he'd lingered in a state of disbelief. Patting himself down once, twice, before his body went ramrod straight and still. His eyes went unfocused and he felt the static of his nascent thoughts, aimlessly sparked, in his grey matter. They were scorching the inside of his skull from the inside out with incandescent rot._ _ _ _

____He shuddered. The shock was settling in, bubbling up from inside his marrow._ _ _ _

____He's fucked._ _ _ _

____His body felt hollow. He'd been shifted into this wreck for whatever debauched purpose the master of this Palace had in store for him. That was according to his cognitive self. Or fuck it, maybe by God? The bastard that granted him his special powers in the firstplace? Just another punchline to the cosmic joke that was Goro Akechi? His suspicions fluttered between the two, begrudging both, neither, and cursing himself. All of the above, why not, sure._ _ _ _

____The only thing he was certain of, either way, is that he wasn't in control. It was beyond terror for him. Even death was finite, something he chose, would choose again. But this? This was a threat to his very nature. The Akechi line may have already been considered a dead end with him, he'd never planned to sire a family of his own, not in a million fucking years. But this was a violation that went recursive, reaching up in his lineage and twisting it out of his grasp for good._ _ _ _

____The sole consolation was that it was the end of the Shido's as well. This was where their fate led them to, to meet an ignoble end.  
His stomach bucked as he gave a deranged laugh, which turned harsh and grating. Tears pricked his eyes as he gave a mixture of a groan and a pained yelp, his body shuddering as he tries to not give into his despair. He looked up at the ceiling as he clenched his teeth, his eyelids._ _ _ _

____"Why?" he shouted._ _ _ _

____One word, but it was a damning one. One he couldn't answer himself. Why had he been so cursed? Why had his life been such a hell from the moment he was born? No, even the moment of his conception was damned too, by virtue of who fathered him in his whore mother's womb. He did not know how long he could hold it at bay, he only knew he couldn't hold it for much longer. Everything was lost..._ _ _ _

____He felt as if his eyes were being ripped out of their orbits, as if a thousand knives were being shoved under his skin with each pulse of his heart and lungs. He gave a crazy laugh as he yelled, his voice amplified tenfold inside his head as he tried to prevent himself from crying out. Goro felt something like a wire inside his heart get plucked, tighter, tighter still, as he curled up in an approximation of a fetal position, the room beginning to swim. His legs curled up tight against his chest, one wing outstretched underneath him as the brittle, fragile bone of it couldn't handle the pressure. The other, he draped over himself, his head tucked in against its softness as the black feathers shielded his vision. Blocking out the sight of the room._ _ _ _

____Something inside of him snapped, a rift of void spreading under his ribs. Where Loki and Robin Hood had once been, he was suddenly and keenly aware of their absence..._ _ _ _

____He quieted._ _ _ _

____Eyes glassy, thoughts turned to ash, Goro shut down. Perhaps this was how the victims of the shutdowns he'd inflicted felt, in their last moments of lucidity._ _ _ _

____The kindling ember of his rage nearly snuffed out. However, he was not so lucky as to be loosed to oblivion just yet._ _ _ _

____He lay there motionless for some time. With the constant source-less dim light of the Palace, even if Akechi had been inclined to track the time he wouldn't have been able to. His body was stiff but he didn't feel cold; he didn't feel much of anything at the moment, even the pain he'd been succumbing to earlier replaced with numbness._ _ _ _

* * *

____The physical pain was gone, the former stripes of aching nerves where his skin had ceded to avian physiology had accepted the modifications. There was a decidedly permanent sense of completion in how his body was knit together. A threshold had been crossed from which there was no return. His earlier theory had, perhaps, been wrong. His innate resistance to this change thrust upon him had manifested at the genetic level, giving him that sense of being wounded and damaged, but that was gone now as well. If there had been a chance, no matter how slim, of overturning this transformation, it was now forever out of his grasp._ _ _ _

____He was now a true puppet, dancing at the whims of a superior being. He felt only a heavy sense of fatigue smothering his mind and body, a way of accepting what had been done to him, blanketing him in apathy._ _ _ _

____Goro merely lay stretched in a vague approximation of waking or sleeping, he couldn't distinguish between the two anymore. Neither did he care._ _ _ _

* * *

____Some time later, he was teased out of his dissociative state. His uneven breathing fluttered the feathers of his wing he'd cradled his head into, and it had tickled his cheek. It had only been a feather, a single weightless piece of down caressing his cheek, but it had felt like the kiss of a lover._ _ _ _

____He didn't move, though, even as he came back to his sense. The shock seemed to come in cycles, ever since he'd awakened here, but this was the worst of it so far. It left him in a strange paralysis, a limbo, and he kept his eyes closed as he tried to retreat back into that headspace which had allowed everything to seem so distant._ _ _ _

____For some time after that he was able to float away from himself. His tether to sanity was frayed enough as it was, even before all this, and so it seemed that this was the last ditch effort of his fragmented soul to remain intact. It was easier, like this. He could forget for a moment that he had ever been anything other than this, that he hadn't had been a key player in orchestrating a fate worse than death for himself. That it wasn't his own fault he was like this, here, now._ _ _ _

____He could sit here, frozen in time, and suffer this fate with in nearly suspended animation, rather than reflect on the piercing agony of circumstance.  
The calls to nature such as thirst, hunger, or a need to relieve himself were all also disconnected from Goro's body. Scrapped along with his the rest of his fleeting humanity. Though, he hadn't came to realise that himself, yet. He was still sitting here, holding himself like a scared child, unable to move._ _ _ _

____Though his semblance of peace was not to last indefinitely._ _ _ _

____Around him, the Palace stretched and melted. Metal dripped soundlessly from the ceiling, like wax, to form the bars of a cage around Goro's prone figure, and the floor beneath him distorted upward from him in layered ripples, a dim sheen caused from the changing cognitive space coated the harsh iron, softening it somewhat. The resulting effect was that he was now properly caged in, and a simulated nest of supple metal cradled Goro as he lay limp._ _ _ _

____These changes went unnoticed by him; and he hadn't heard either sound of footsteps which heralded his double's approach. It took the rough grasp of the cognitive Akechi's hand jerking one of the wings that shielded his face away, shaking him and pulling upward, before Goro blinked back into awareness._ _ _ _

____His dead eyes were looking straight into his own. His mouth was moving, some delicate airy words all sotto voce. But it may as well have not said anything at all, as Goro could make nothing register at the moment. His body however, gave a half-hearted kick outward as the cognition jerked him upright, but the ungainly talons failed to catch on anything but air._ _ _ _

____He smirked, and Goro looked away. Goro didn't have to give it the satisfaction of giving it anything that it wanted, including his attention._ _ _ _

____The cognition continued to smile, and Goro felt a gust of hot breath on the side of his face as it leaned in closer, nearly kissing the shell of his ear. "You can't escape," he said. "You've realised it now, haven't you? Good! Everything's according to the Captain's schedule." His gloves hands reached under Goro's chin, forcing him to confront the reality of his newly shaped surroundings, the wrought-cage. Goro only blinked stupidly, his mouth dry, head still empty._ _ _ _

____"But..." His mimic trailed off, lips pursing. Goro winced as he felt hands grab at his face._ _ _ _

____Goro wanted to pull away, to turn his face away, to do anything other than what he was making him do.  
He couldn't. His wings and talons refused to respond, only flailing weakly and knocking into the cognition. His body was still functioning on some level, but only a perfunctory one from years of battle honed reflexes to afford him the very bare minimum of a token struggle. More of a pantomime than anything else. His mind was failing to keep up with reality, unable to command himself any more effectively._ _ _ _

____The cognition's fingers were burning his skin, and the very touch of its palm against his face, and the one hand holding his wing strong enough to make the bone ache, was sending waves of revulsion through him._ _ _ _

____"It would be convenient if you could start producing more Shadows _now_. Not that the Captain requires them. Of course he doesn't. It would just be rather poetic if that trash would be taken out by you, after all. Well." The cognition grinned, showing a crescent of perfect white teeth. " _Us _."_____ _

________The cognition gave his cheek a press with one finger, sliding its extended index finger downward across Goro's chin and jaw, and Goro's pupils were practically vibrating in place. Begrudgingly, his mind was beginning to turn back on. Stringing together bits of what was being said, word by word. Producing... Shadows?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________That trash?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Then, the Thieves were still alive? And... Securing a route to Shido's...?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________His train of thought was abruptly derailed as the cognitive's fingers tightened around his throat, and the hand that had been dangling him upright by the wing let go. His entire weight dropping like a hanged man. Goro dangled like poultry to be slaughtered and his wings lashed out furiously as he was asphyxiated, talons striking out to try to touch the ground in vain. The edges of his wings buffeted the cognition but he didn't even flinch._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________His cognition just smiled that same coldly amused smile and lifted Goro higher up, slightly away from himself, inspecting him — after the transformation, Goro didn't weigh even a third as much as he had prior. It wasn't very difficult to keep him in check._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Cognitive Akechi took his time as his counterpart's struggling died down on its own as his face turned a mottled purple, and unhurriedly raised his other hand to his mouth to nip the finger of his glove away. Pulling the buttery smooth leather between his teeth and baring his hand, the glove fell discarded to the ground._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The cognition flexed his fingers once, testing them, and reached between the twitching, winged curtain of feathers of the real Goro to place his hand against his pale stomach. It was flat, and slightly warm to the touch, and the flesh turned goosebumped from the contact. The cognition frowned as it dug its fingers in harder, groping under the navel. Searching for something. A dip lower, brushing just above where the feathers of Goro's crotch grew in, and the hand paused, an unmistakable hard bump pressing back against his fingertips. Like a tumour, but larger — a bit more pressure, and he was able to shift it under the skin._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Cognitive Akechi released Goro unceremoniously. Goro collapsed to the ground in a crumpled heap, his body giving a shrill whine as it tried to suck down air once again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Hmmm... So there's just one so far." The cognition's foot wormed under Goro's clavicle, and he gave a well-aimed kick to roll him over to face him again. Ah — it seemed he'd been too forceful. Goro was unconscious._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I'm disappointed," he purred. "I would've thought you'd be better than this. It is one thing to merely satisfy the Captain, but we had always aimed to _impress _. No matter. I still exist, after all. Perhaps your spawn won't be such failures. And if they aren't, I'll fuck them into you until you bear a proper flock for the Captain. It's almost a pity I can't do it right now... But, I'll be back later to help you, Crow-kun."___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________With that, he tenderly patted Goro's groin, and his subtly distended belly, and straightened himself up. The cognition made a show of dusting himself off. Only a few tiny black feathers clung to his tan uniform jacket from their scuffle. He picked up his glove with slow deliberate motions, and let himself out of the cage with a swipe of a silver key, leaving Goro alone once again. Alone for the time being, that was, as..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Inside his unsuspecting body... An egg had begun to grow._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

* * *

__________When Goro came to this time, he was disoriented, and felt sickly, violated almost. The one-sided conversation his cognition had started up with him was patchy and cloudy in his memory. He'd been strangled, and it had touched him, and... Mocked him. For all he knew, it could have just been lying to fuck with him some more. A sore winner._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________But one way or another, the encounter had shaken him from his stupor. Perhaps if only for a few minutes, perhaps longer if he could grasp on to an emotion and ride it back to the shores of lucidity._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He arranged himself into a half-crouching, half-sitting pose. He hadn't experimented with his talons as much, earlier, so it took some time to position them, finding he couldn't draw himself up any further than a sitting pose before they'd buckle under his unevenly distributed weight. He also learned that the weird tugging from how he'd sat poorly earlier was from stubby fan of feathers forming a short tail, sprouted from just above the end of his spine. He couldn't really control them, though, and had to scoot in place so that he wouldn't be pulling them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He couldn't stand, couldn't figure out the mechanics of straightening the talons out from their natural curve, but he was able to swing them under himself to sit in what felt like seiza, save that his new joints bent forward instead of backward. His talons stretched before him as the brunt of his weight rested on the top of his twiggy calves, and he was naturally bowed forward to accommodate his folded wings. It felt a little more natural on his body, and it was then he noticed that the space around him had shifted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The bars of the cage, the soft silvery gilded coils of a nest around him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The symbolism was garish and on-the-nose in the way all Metaverse constructs were, though he couldn't bring himself to care more that the space had changed. In light of what shape his body had been forced to take, what did it matter? Though, of course, the humiliation was one more collection for him to bear deep in what remained of his soul._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Goro shut his eyes, and felt the call to semi-consciousness returning, but he didn't give in this time. What the cognition had said to him stuck in his thoughts, a nail stubbornly refusing to be hammered down, and... What had that poor replica of himself been doing, anyway? Molesting him? No. That didn't seem right. Something about producing... One of...?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He looked down at his body once again. His ribs were only semi-prominent under his skin, though he didn't feel any sense of hunger even though he couldn't even begin to guess the last time it was he'd eaten. But Cognitive Akechi hadn't been looking after his health, had he? His gaze swept a little lower. The skin on his stomach was discoloured, bruises beginning to bloom where the cognition had pawed at his body so roughly. His memory drew a blank there. Why would it touch him there?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He would try to feel the area himself if he had fingers. Perhaps it had been seeking the bullet wound from when he'd been shot during their fight. His neck bent lower, his entire upper body twisting as he inspected himself again. No sign of a scar, but healing spells and items often took care of that inconvenience anyway. Then, maybe the bullet was still lodged in him...? Ah. There was a misshapen bump, now that he looked very closely. It wasn't the size of a bullet, though, it was much larger, and he would have just discounted it for a knot of abused flesh from a wound. A bruise. Except, even as ready as he was to dismiss it out of hand, it felt suddenly like his stomach dropped._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The fist-sized, round lump shifted beneath his skin. Receding back behind a layer of his sparse fat with a flutter of his core muscles. Out of sight._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Goro watched in mute horror._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He was a bird hybrid now. He had... Bird parts. Birds...  
Laid...  
Eggs — _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________His throat swelled shut. He could't get air. He's going to die like this. No, he only wished he were dead._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He tried to pitch forward and slam his face as hard as he could against the bars of the cage, to crack his skull like an eggshell, to get his fucking brain to splatter, end his miserable existence once and for all — but they passed around him harmlessly like quicksilver, the metal loose and liquid as it clung to him. Like it had been expecting this last act of his, was merely waiting to perfectly counter him, taking away even that last piece of hope; made the visual metaphor even more gaudy and obvious, showcase how well and truly trapped he was. The metal reformed around him, solidifying in a shining iron collar and bindings, choking him and arresting his movement so that he could only twitch and spasm. Locked into place like a common brood hen._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________His stomach gave another belly-up twitch, and his eyes rolled in his head as he felt the — the egg — shift within his innards again. He thinks he feels it now, feels witless and a fool for not having recognised it earlier. A pulsing, swelling mass taking up space, pushing his meat out to make room for it, sapping the remnants of calcium from his now-hollowed bones. Ah, ah. All his thoughts earlier about being neutered. Was this karma? Was it fucking karma? He just had to go and tempt fate once again —_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Wordless cries ripped themselves from his throat as he broke down in full tears. Wetness stained his face and he tugged and pulled at the metallic restraints between convulsions. But they do an excellent job of keeping him safely bound; the bands keeping his talons locked forward in a laying pose, his elbows barred backward behind him so his wings were forced shut tight to his sides, not even able to spread the feathers apart, and his neck collared and wrenched upward. The end result being he was bent at an extremely unnatural angle, his back forced to arch and press his ass out while his flat chest was forced against the tops of his scabrous legs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Struggle as he might, he cannot get free. He can only sob and sit there, trapped, as his face contorts and twists in raw mortification, rage and..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Fuck, his stomach has twisted again. He grits his teeth shut and feels the convulsions wrack his body, a more insistent pulse. His ribs creak and strain beneath his flesh, fighting the metal bondage, but he succeeded only in getting a scant inch of space between his barely parted feathery thighs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He felt the bulge of his stomach stretching his skin taut. The more he focused on it, the more potent the awareness of the sensation knifed into him. As if acknowledgement of his condition hurried the urgency of it all along. He could barely look down at his stomach now, contorted as he was into a subservient kneel with his head at an odd angle, but he could still see a round swell of flesh._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Oh fuck, oh fuck, he tried not to think about it. He tried really, damn, hard not to think about it. To slip back into that state of being neither here-nor-there, where he didn't have to think about being Goro Akechi, bastard son — Second Coming of the Detective Prince — Shido's attack dog — Black Mask — _Crow _.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Tremors rocked him from within and without, and he felt a tar-like slick seeping out from between his legs, his tail feathers lifting by their own volition to reveal the puffy rim of his newly formed cloaca to the cold air. He felt raw and exposed, like his asshole had just been flashed and aired, although stranger still as a pang travelled from his stomach right down the chute to that new orifice. A cable of cramping muscle dividing his unwilling body apart as it prepared to lay.  
____________

___A wave of wetness runs down his face and he looks down, confused to see his tears. It was surely some strange dream. This cannot be happening. He knew this. Yet here he was, helpless, salty tears trickling down from him as he wept._ _ _

____________A pulse spread through him and his legs trembled, damp from his release of dark liquid which pooled underneath his feathered thighs. A fresh onslaught of cramps soon followed, pulling at him from the inside out, and he could only moan weakly. He tried to fight it, but there's nothing he could do. No spirit of rebellion to save him, no deus ex machina waiting in the wings._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Despite himself, he can only endure as his body continues to do its intrinsic duty. The weight in his lower stomach suddenly dropped lower, caught in the contour of his pelvis, and it felt so alien that Goro shuddered and bit his lip so hard it bled. As a male, there was literally nothing that could have compared him for this experience he was forced to undergo. He writhed in place, and moaned through his teeth as his cloaca pushed out another release of darkening liquid. It felt oily and disgusting, clinging to his rim like no lubricant he'd ever experienced._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Tissues he previously had never even had moved as he desperately tried to suck his stomach in, trying to arrest its motion through his innermost passages. He was not thinking clearly at all. It was just a response born of desperation to prevent himself from the imminent consequences at hand. But a more compelling force from within his body overrode that choice, made him bear down, to push down and angle the set of his hips wider. Were it not for the metal support he'd have slumped, boneless, into his own filth, but as it were, he'd been manipulated and frozen into precisely the right position so that the egg would pass more easily through him. His body clenched and burned as it pushed, even as his human mind fell into the final stages of shock._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________There was a pause within his body as the egg gradually passed through the bones of his narrow pubic arch, as it would have from a womb, a sense of brutal pressure, and then another flutter as it is caught, momentarily, by his sphincter muscles, and then it is over. His innards twitch violently and relaxed just as quick, and the smooth shell of the egg, as large as a softball, slid easily outward from his ass. A small wet thud as it ejected from him into the nest. A shudder of pleasure wracked his frame, an almost euphoric sensation throbbing from the sudden emptiness. A rush of air flooding the insides of his newly vacated opening as it clenched uselessly. If Goro had still had his cock, his seed would surely have been added to the mix of fluids already wrung from his body._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Even after birth his cloaca spread wide, not tightening, and with how he'd been bound he can still feel the glistening warm surface of the eggshell brushing against the gaping pucker of his hole. The egg had left him. The egg the egg the egg the egg. His thoughts looped._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He was 6 years old. It was their shopping day, and his mother had saved just enough to get a chicken from the wet market. Their only fresh meat for the week. Slaughtered just that day. She had an understanding with that butcher, he'd sell the chicken un-plucked to her at a discounted price. Goro's mother tried to hide that part of the preparations from him, tried to shoo him from the kitchen, but he wanted to help. Goro's chubby child fingers slid over the greasy matted feathers, clumsy. As if he was petting it. His mother didn't scold him though, not once, even though it added an entire hour to the preparation. She was like that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________But when the chicken was finally bare, sickly pale and pebbled all over, when she'd grabbed the knife to slit the giblets out, the blade had caught inside of it. She'd tugged, and a strand of creamy polyps was strewn out from the carcass. An entire clutch of budding eggs knit together, red and yellow and pink and white. A generation lynched up in guts._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________They ate it all, of course. Waste not want not. Wouldn't it be sadder, Goro-kun, if we don't make the most out of her sacrifice, ne? So, he and his mother shared a bonding moment while they ate the corpse and the never-alive. Made it a joke between themselves when they ate oyakodon on his next (and last) birthday together. Chicken-and-egg. Mother-and-child. A reunion in death._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Goro's thoughts flashed and flickered in his mind, played over and over again, as on a repeating reel. His mother, dead because of him. Matricide. His father, signed off on his death. Filicide. If Goro had it his way, it would have been patricide. His cognition and his own duel, did that count as suicide? And now. And now... Here he was. Bastard father and mother in one. To his —  
To —_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________His unfertilised egg. His stillborn baby...?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Goro's sanity slipped the tenuous leash he'd had on it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

* * *

____________Crow cried, and cried._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

* * *

____________The faint echoes of caws now resounded through the Cruiser of Pride, and curious packs of sleek feathered shadows populated the decks of the ship._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Oracle frowned at the new development, pointing it out as she played the role of Navi, but the Phantom Thieves paid it no mind. They'd already secured the route to the treasure so the roaming packs weren't going to be a bother._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Today, Shido and this ship were going _down.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing a fic, and it's completely nasty. Self indulgent fetishy crap to the max. What can I say? Goro brought out the worst in me. 
> 
> A big thank you as well to [chuusei_teki_na_koe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chuusei_teki_na_koe/pseuds/chuusei_teki_na_koe) who is a massive inspiration to me, and encouraged me in a comment months ago to indulge my depravity (though I don't think this fic will exactly get her blessing! orz)
> 
> I know there's a bunch of mistakes but I hope you can overlook the worst of them.  
> Especially the formatting mistakes. I don't really know how to use AO3 and the HTML editor blows my mind.
> 
> I was also thinking of writing a sequel but I'm generally more interested in the process of mindbreak than what comes after, but maybe some of you would be interested in a better end feat. Akiren, or a worse end featuring Ninchi (possibly Shadow Shido too)? 
> 
> Well, if you've made it this far, let me know what you think even if that opinion is to say DIAF. Haha! Thanks for reading.


End file.
